


A Blessing

by navaan



Category: DC Cinematic Universe, Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, F/M, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, Sexual Content, Steve Trevor Lives, Strong Woman/"Weak Man", Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-17 10:59:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11850183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/navaan/pseuds/navaan
Summary: Steve Trevor wakes up in the future. Luckily Diana is there to make it better.





	A Blessing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hanorganaas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanorganaas/gifts).



He watched the doctors and nurses - and the nurses who he realized _now_ were actually doctors and the doctors who were nurses. Even in all the confusion and displacement, it _hadn't_ taken him much time to wrap his head around that. But he was still struggling to think about how much time must have passed for the society outside to come this far and what kind of power had pushed him forward through time so that he had missed it all.

A glance at the machines, beeping and moving and clicking and blinking around him made him nervous. 

These changes were much harder to take in than the fact that a tall, blonde woman with a flip chart, who had only come by once, was his doctor.

There was one constant. 

Diana.

Diana, who had stepped into his room after his first day here, and given him a watery smile and then had kissed his brow. He'd been very out of it then and had only later realized that her strong hands had been shaking. Sedated and so out of it that he hadn't been sure she was real, she had still helped him stay calm.

Now she was seated at his bedside and smiled; the image of calm. "This is a lot to take in, Steve." 

"Tell me again."

"It's the year 2017."

"That's a hundred years - give or take." He swallowed, thought that over, stared at the pristine white ceiling, tried to keep the panic at bay. He had found an island full of mystical warrior women upholding ancient culture - and yet advanced and capable to put the rest of the world to shame. He only needed to look at Diana and her painfully beautiful smile to remember there were true wonders in this world. But something didn't add up. "I'm not dead?"

"You are not dead," Diana repeated very patiently.

"The last thing I remember is heat and the plane..."

"Exploded. Yes."

"So how am I here?"

"There is magic in the world," Diana explained patiently. "My patrons heard my prayers and perhaps a wish was granted."

He mulled that over. "That's it?" She believed it. He wasn't sure he could. And yet he was here.

"Always the skeptic. I have fiends you would get along with very well. I could explain about the Mother Box and Phantom Zones and the ancient knowledge of Atlantis, about technologies so far beyond anything that humanity has discovered yet that it is essentially magic. I could tell you about gods and the powers of the arcane. The world has changed, Steve Trevor. The world has become much bigger than it was before. There are so many possibilities and I don't know which is the answer to this mystery. But does it matter right now?" Her eyes were shining and her voice husky and full of emotion. "You're _alive_. You are returned to me. I lost you so many years ago and here you are."

When she kissed him on the mouth it was with all the passion that they had shared only once and he wanted it, that fire, that love, that light that could guide him away from memories of war and fire and death. But the machines were beeping and French speaking nurses were walking in and out. Nervously he pulled away.

Diana smiled, soft and understanding. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes," he said without hesitation and remembered a young warrior, a cherished princess, following a spy into a world unknown.

Roles were reversed now.

 

She drove. And even just looking at the streets and cars was too much for him. 

This was real.

It was all real.

2017.

He had no place here.

He had missed everything.

"Etta?" he asked, but he was thinking about _all_ his friends. 

"Passed away peacefully in her sleep in 1961. Quiet the achievement for a former MI6 field agent." Diana sounded fond and proud.

Dead.

Died in her sleep.

And he was here. Still the same man.

Diana took them to her apartment in Paris. "You will like it," she said and smiled, giving him time to take in the chaos of the city changed and unchanged, familiar and so strange.

"How did you know where to find me?" he asked, watching people walk past them when traffic came to a stand still. The noise, the smells, everything was wrong and yet exciting. It was like finding his bearing in a new mission in a foreign country without guide.

"A friend," Diana said. "A paranoid, watchful friend who knows no boundaries when it comes to tracking all information that might be useful. He recognized your picture when you were listed as unknown patient."

"A friend?"

A hundred years and she still looked young.

A hundred years since their night together that for him had been days ago. He could count the hours.

She had spoken the words “friend” ripe with meaning and he could not tell what _kind_ of meaning.

"The world," she said and drove forward when the cars in front of them were moving, "is as always a strange place. It has become bigger and better and no less dangerous than before. We face new challenges. And so this world made its own heroes."

"Heroes?" In war there were no heroes. Like all soldiers and spies he knew that. But Diana had climbed from the trenches like something out of a storybook.

"They call me Wonder Woman," she said. "People, they call me Wonder Woman now."

Steve's eyes snapped to her face.

"They should call you angel. But wonder is close enough."

She laughed and he smiled, because the happiness in her eyes was all for him. That he could deal with.

* * *

He kissed her, when they were barely out of the car, but she was the one who met him with a need stronger than reason. Everything was different from their first night together. Men were no longer new to her. But his breath got sucked from his lungs when she pulled him off his feet and had them up the stairs and in front of her door _in and instant_. Flying. That was what flying felt like.

"God," he whispered, breathless and desperate for her. He licked his lips and saw an answering desire in her eyes.

"In a manner of speaking," she said and pushed him into the apartment, fastening their lips together again. 

He didn't even want to waste time to look at his surroundings. He wanted to touch skin. His hands fumbled with her blouse, but she had no patience and ripped open his shirt with both hands.

Her hands were strong and real, cool against his hot skill.

So real and soft and curious.

Diana. The only thing that was real.

The only thing that mattered.

And he was alive. 

Here with her.

Alive.

A true wonder.

She threw him to the bed and was on top of him the next second.

"God, Diana," he groaned, harder than he had ever been in his life. He needed her now. Right now. To make him feel. To give her pleasure. To cherish life.

"I want you, Steve. I missed you and I want you and I'm not ready to give your up before your time again. Let me give you pleasure. Let me take mine."

Like everything, she said it with an earnest honesty that threatened to undo him right there and then, with her strong thighs on both sides of his hips and his clothes still on. He chuckled, surprised and so damn excited.

"I could never say no to you. Take what you need."

“Oh,” she whispered. “I feel _you_ need.” She rolled her hips and he groaned unable to hold her or stop her. 

Clothes came off. Some would never be worn again and she rode him, her hair falling open and wild down her back, her breast heaving. Their noises mixed and mingled. He wouldn't be able to hold back. He was so close. Too close and impatient. Both of them were so desperate for this; it did not take long for them, to find their pleasure and collapse together in her sheets, out of breath and satisfied but not sated.

"This is my apartment," she whispered in his ear and waved a hand around. “Welcome.”

"I like the bed. Very comfortable."

Her next kiss took what little breath he had recovered away again.

_Let's never leave the bed._

But they would, of course.

Later.

Tomorrow.

He was alive and in love. _Loved_. Tomorrow he'd meet the future. For now he'd cherish the fact that there was no war outside his window and he was breathing. For now, he only wanted to lose himself in Diana.

Lovers. Reunited.


End file.
